


Late Night

by nightvalesecretpopo



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: A bit OOC?, Cecil has a third eye and tattoos in this if that bothers you, Erections, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, POV Third Person, Sleepy Cuddles, i dunno just listing off potential triggers, small injury, some hurt-comfort, what even is the summary
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-18
Updated: 2013-08-18
Packaged: 2017-12-23 22:24:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/931762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightvalesecretpopo/pseuds/nightvalesecretpopo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carlos has to cancel a date for work, but that doesn't mean they can't still have fun at home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Late Night

Carlos opened his front door with a huff. As he trudged with heavy steps into the living room, he dropped his various bags of groceries and briefcases and binders full of research papers haphazardly on his way to the sofa. The scientist smiled weakly just before collapsing onto his plush safe haven, letting out a long sigh as he did. Work was becoming more and more stressful as days went by: not to mention the distressing thought of time slowing down in Night Vale, on top of every other strange occurrence that seemed to happen every other minute. 

He groaned. Why did he ever make the decision to take up work here? Well, it was mainly because it was such a “scientifically interesting” community, but there were surely ones out there that were safer, more inviting, more.. logical. He muttered his organization's motto, “for science”, aloud, a mantra that his coworkers would cheer every so often. They were all just as passionate about science as he was, and that was the reason he was still there, after all.

He shook his head lightly, raven curls bobbing as he did. Enough thought about work! It was already nighttime and tomorrow's schedule proved to be a very strenuous one: he would need to wake up at 4 am to fill his quota. Carlos wanted to go to his bed to be able to curl up in his sheets and move more liberally, but it appeared as if Morpheus was already pulling him in. He closed his eyes slowly, took a deep inhalation and--

Was that.. cinnamon?

He opened his eyes languidly, yelped, and reflexively rolled in an attempt to get away only to fall off the bed with an unceremonious _thunk._

“Oh, dear Carlos, did I scare you? Are you alright?” his onlooker replied quite worriedly- almost too much so for a mere short fall.

 _Right_ , he remembered, _Cecil said he'd be coming over later today._

As Cecil knelt down to help the other up, the scientist waved the hand not pinned under his rib cage in a dismissive gesture, but the other did not rise until Carlos did.  
The radio host chuckled quietly, his deep voice filling the room. “Did you forget about our arrangement?” he enquired. 

He nodded, grimacing at his newborn headache and rubbing the base of his skull. Upon hearing his flame wince, Cecil declared “I'll give you something for that; one moment” before jogging to the bathroom where he assumed the medicine cabinet was. Carlos sat down awkwardly while waiting. 

The other returned not long after with two small tablets and a glass of translucent ( _Are those bits of leather?_ ) water. The scientist smiled appreciatively and took the medicine, and Cecil grinned in return, sitting at the foot of the sofa like a puppy waiting for its master to take it outside. He placed the glass on the table next to him. “Cecil, could we maybe reschedule this? I have to get up really early to do a lot to work tomorrow and... yeah,” he suggested apprehensively. 

Carlos could see the light leave Cecil eyes and his broad smile falter, but he replied, “Alright”.

He got up slowly and turned for the front door. However, he spun abruptly to face Carlos again and asked, “Could I at least get you to your room?” He extended his arm, fingers outspread, pulling up the sleeve of his striped dress shirt and revealing some of the tattoos just above his wrist. He smiled and took Cecil's hand. The radio host pulled him up unexpectedly easily, an impressive feat of strength considering their difference in size; Carlos would have knocked Cecil over given the momentum had the other not reflexively put a foot behind himself to counterbalance the weight influx. They ended up standing a hairsbreadth apart, the tiny hairs on the tips of their noses barely touching, their gazes transfixed on each other. Cecil was the first to break the silence after releasing the hand he'd used to lift Carlos by laughing quietly but sonorously. The scientist mirrored his actions, lowering the now idly hovering arm to the small of Cecil's back, the other arm following, and pressing their foreheads together (the radio host had, thankfully, retracting his then closed third eye back into his head beforehand). Cecil looped his arms around Carlos' shoulders before slowly turning his head to press their lips together. 

Carlos' lips were soft, warm and tasted of sand, while Cecil's were rougher due to constantly biting them and were unbearably sweet. The scientist looped an arm between his lover's to cup his cheek while changing his other hand's position to gently grip one of Cecil's hips. They parted and returned hungrily numerous times, and both of them could definitely feel time slowing down in Night Vale: it felt like years had passed when they finally stopped and rejoined their foreheads, breathing quietly. Both of their faces were flushed and their eyes rested on the floor space between their feet. 

After they both had caught their breath and Carlos let out what seemed like a contented sigh, Cecil looked back to his lover's face and remarked, “You should be getting to bed now, dear. You have work, remember?” 

His gaze shifted to Cecil, and he could practically hear the other smirk in his peripheral vision (though the teasing look didn't quite meet his eyes- they looked almost reluctant). He was deliberately teasing him and was aware of Carlos' hardness; not only did his third eye make him an empath, but his groin was barely touching the other's leg and Cecil could probably notice it. He gave him a slightly irritated look and Cecil merely giggled before giving him a quick peck on the cheek, bringing his arms back to his sides, taking Carlos' hand in his and pulling him in the direction of his room. The scientist provided little resistance; he was quite tired, after all. 

When they arrived, Cecil released his grip and turned to face him, staring at him almost expectantly, unblinking, and pointed a hand with an upraised palm to his bed, raising his eyebrows as he did.  
 _Oh_ , Carlos thought. _Guess he's not just teasing me after all_. They'd never made it past first base before, and he thought they might be going too quickly, but he wasn't complaining.

He walked over to his lover quickly, pressing him against the wall and attacking his jawline and neck with kisses and gentle bites. Though he heard Cecil let out a few grunts of appreciation, he also felt firm hands pressing against his chest and backed away. The radio host's face was tinted with violet on his cheeks, and his light eyes demonstrated bewilderment (and also disappointment- it seemed as if he would have liked to continue with Carlos'... _exploration_ , but the time merely did not call for it). 

“It's nice to see you so eager, but...” Cecil began, “I was actually waiting for you to change into your pyjamas and get to bed.” Carlos' eyebrows raised and he grimaced out of sheer embarrassment. Cecil smirked and began to pull off his lab coat. “Well, come on now, Mr. 'I Have to Reschedule This Date We've Been Planning for Weeks Because I Have Work to Do Tomorrow'”. 

Carlos, cheeks now dusted with red, undid the buttons of his flannel shirt. Cecil loved the colour: a light purple. _It looks even better on the floor, he noted._

The voice of Night Vale turned to face the wall to give the other privacy (he was staring, after all) as Carlos removed his pants. He stood there with his arms crossed, now he himself unsure. Was he supposed to go home? Could he stay the night? As he was gathering the courage to clarify, he felt two quick taps on his arm, and turned around to reciprocate the gesture. Carlos had changed into his sleep outfit, a plain white t-shirt and some ( _form-fitting_ , Cecil thought) boxer shorts, and was holding an orange one out for Cecil to wear. He smiled, took it from him, and turned his head into the wall he was facing before so he could move his whole body to face that way, but Carlos put a firm grip on his shoulder to stop him. 

“Hey, don't be shy. Turn around,” he murmured. Cecil smiled softly, but dropped it before doing an about face and giving the shirt back to Carlos temporarily in order to undress himself. He pulled his sweater vest over his head, dropped it to the floor, and made quick work of the buttons on the dress shirt underneath. 

The more that came undone, the more of his tattoo-riddled chest was revealed. Carlos found them quite fascinating, and bombarded his lover with questions the first time he saw them (and they saw him): “When did you get these?”; “Is this even ink?”; “How are they moving?”; “Did that one of a pair of eyes just wink at me?” 

In the present, Carlos caught himself ogling, so he focused his attention on Cecil's face instead, brows slightly furrowed in concentration as he continued with the task at hand, and he couldn't help but smile; he was quite adorable when focused. He then unbuckled his belt, unzipped his fly, and squatted to retrieve the shirt on the floor, dropping his pants as he did. He looked up at Carlos, who still wore a dorky grin and was on cloud nine in his ruminations about Cecil, and pecked him on the cheek, startling him back into reality. His shirt was far too large for Cecil's lanky, wiry frame, but he loved the way it hung off him in various places and slung off one shoulder. The radio host noticed Carlos' gawking and blood rushed to his face, tinting it violet. 

He limbered sleepily to the unmade bed and toppled gracelessly upon it, the mattress squeaking in distress. His lover followed shortly after, careful not to collapse on top of Cecil for fear of crushing him.  
After checking the time on the clock on his nightstand, which displayed 23:00 in bright red lights, the scientist put his glasses on said table and rolled over to face his charge, which the other mirrored. Cecil smiled, creasing the skin around his eyes gently and revealing the dimples Carlos loved so much. He lifted his hands and put them on either side of the radio host's face, pulling it to his own and kissing him deeply. 

Cecil made a small whimper into Carlos' mouth out of surprise before scooting closer without breaking their lips apart. Eventually, their chests were pressed together and they could feel each other's heartbeats: they were both drumming rather quickly, and were slowly synchronizing into one percussive rhythm. 

When they parted to breathe, Carlos quickly seized the opportunity to loop his arms around his lover's waist and pull their lower halves together, which made them both groan from the new heat enveloping their groins. They bucked against each other at random times, usually when the pleasure precipitated from the coarseness of their tongues needed an outlet, which led to even more lewd noises erupting in the otherwise silent room. 

Cecil was really enjoying himself; it had been a while since they had had a make-out session, and this one was especially lascivious. However, when he felt Carlos' fingers go under the elastic of his boxers and slowly descend, he knew it was time to stop. 

“U-um, Carlos,” he stuttered, the scientist having taken a light squeeze of a firm buttock just before he began to speak. His partner did not appear to be listening, as he was still pecking Cecil's lips hungrily, which he shortly impeded by placing a hand between their faces. “I think it's time for bed, don't you think?”

Carlos looked down at the offending hand and back into Cecil's eyes before grinning sheepishly, removing his fingers from the other's underwear to scratch the crown of his head in an almost apologetic manner. “Ah, sorry about that, Cecil... I guess I got kinda distracted.” He chuckled awkwardly before giving the radio host one last kiss, twisting around in the other's gentle hold and turning off the lamp on his side of the bed. However, his lover did not give him the opportunity to face him again: Carlos could feel Cecil's wiry yet strong arms tighten around his torso, pulling him closer until no space remained between them. He could feel his flame's pointed nose nuzzling into his hair before lovingly kissing his scalp. 

“You're wonderful, Carlos,” Cecil said, muffled somewhat by the scientist's thick locks of hair. He was careful not to let those three little words slip just yet: he had to pace himself, as much as he wanted to express his love to his partner without hesitation, lest Carlos would feel intimidated. 

Seizing the opportunity to quip at Cecil, he replied, “You're pretty _neat_ yourself,” putting extra emphasis on the word that led to a great deal of embarrassment for the radio host according to what he revealed on the show. 

Cecil seemed to revert into himself at the reference, and Carlos could practically feel the heat rush to the other's face. He buried his head further into the scientist's mane as if trying to hide himself from the world (not that the Secret Police wouldn't still see him). Carlos chuckled heartily before turning around and lavishing his face with kisses, still giggling as he did so. Cecil hid his face in his hands, but his lover could still hear him saying “stop it, stop it, I hate you, you're so mean!” while shaking his head quickly. Carlos took the hands by the wrists, pulled them away as if playing peek-a-boo, and pressed their lips together, forcing him to stop his frustrated, yet adorable, chant. 

“In all seriousness, I love you, too,” he murmured with a smile, knowing all too well what Cecil's little compliments really meant. He enveloped him in a tender embrace, resting his chin on the other's shoulder, and whispered, “Good night, Cecil.”

The radio host felt a newborn warmth radiating through his entire body at Carlos' confession. He was tearing up a bit out of sheer joy: he had never felt like this before; not since that magical day that the mysterious scientist arrived in the little town of Night Vale. He grinned broadly and mirrored Carlos' gesture but with a somewhat tighter grip, taking in the rich scent of his lover's musk. 

Realizing he'd left Carlos hanging, he quickly interjected “G-good night to you, too, Carlos! And I love you, too!” He knew that the sentiments weren't well-constructed, admittedly, but how could he possibly think coherently with this ecstasy coursing through him? He could hear the scientist snoring faintly and nuzzled more into the crook of his neck, embracing the cologne with open arms and allowing it to drift him off to pleasant dreams.

And Carlos smiled before, at last, going to sleep, the patting of Cecil's rushing heart against his chest his lullaby.

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt credit ("sleepy cuddles fluff") to isaac-laheys-sassy-ass on Tumblr! There's an allusion to a drawing by willgrahamkun, as well (also on Tumblr). 
> 
> And this is my first work for Welcome to Night Vale and I also was not caught up to it when I wrote this, so sorry if either of them are a bit OOC~
> 
> I'm not quite sure where this would fall chronologically in terms of the episodes... probably once they're a bit more intimate, so maybe a few months after First Date? 
> 
> Well, hope you enjoyed it!


End file.
